Sam’s Creed (16 page)

His hand anchored in her hair, pulling her head back. His mouth bit at hers before he growled. “Fuck. The word is fuck.”

“Ah. No wonder men use this word so much.”

His eyes burned with dark heat. She made him wait. Running her tongue along her lips, letting him see her teeth, the moisture within, waiting for his breath to catch, his gaze to become razor-sharp. Waited until his grip tightened, drawing her in. Inching her way up, she found the lobe of his ear, bit it once, nibbled twice before whispering, “Fuck me, Sam. Let me feel your power surging in me. Show me how much you want me.”

“Goddamn!”

He said he wouldn’t be easy and he wasn’t. It was as if the use of the words broke something inside him. Something he’d been holding back. He pushed her down, powering hard inside her, spearing though resistance too fast for her to absorb, pulling back as she caught the fragment of sensation, yanking her back onto it. She held on as he did it again and again, his thick cock parting her muscles over and over again, scraping along her inner walls in the most perfect tension. It was like riding a beautiful violent storm, scary, exciting, overwhelming. And there was nothing she could do but hold on. His thrusts grew harder, deeper.

“Come with me, Bella.”

Impossibly deep. She bit her lip as an inner wildness rose in answer to his, growing with every thrust.

“Sam.”

Breeze pranced to the side. She gasped as Sam’s cock stretched her a different way, touched a different spot, ripping a high-pitched scream from her throat.

“That’s the spot?” he grunted, his voice a harsh rasp. “Right there?”

She didn’t know. She knew nothing beyond the hard throb of desire that demanded satisfaction. He rubbed his cock over that bundle of nerves in short hard jabs, tilting her hips so every thrust rasped her clit along the thick cotton of his pants. Her pussy got tighter, his cock bigger, and the swelling in her womb knotted to the point of agony.

“Sam!”

“Damn, you’re going to burn us both up.”

“I cannot…stand it,” she gasped. “You must come.”

“Shit.”

His body jerked. She tightened her legs around his hips, holding tight, finding a fragment of her voice as he started to pull out. “In me. Come in me.”

She wanted to feel his seed, rich and hot, inside her.

For one moment she’d thought she’d won, but then he yanked her up. His muscles were stronger than hers, giving him his way and his cock pulled free and her pussy was empty, clenching on air.

“No. I want—”

“This is what you want.”

His hands curved around her buttocks. His fingers dipped into the deep crease between, pulling the firm globes apart, stretching her anus in an erotic prelude. His shaft slid in the thick cream pouring from her pussy, snagging on the tight rosette of her anus, startling a dark forbidden hunger to life. Pressing, parting the tiniest bit, letting the clench of muscle seal them together. “This is what you want, Bella.” His head fell back. “What we both want.”

The first spurt of seed hit like an erotic punch, burning hot over ultrasensitive nerve endings, jetting deep in an unfamiliar sensation.

She twisted away. His cheek dropped to hers as the second spurt built on the first.

“No. Bear down. Let me fill you this way at least.”

She did as he asked, trusting him as she buried her face in his neck. Another jerk of his cock, another spurt of warmth. Another rub against her clit.

“Bear down and take me, Bella.”

She could feel herself opening against this pressure. “This does not seem right.”

“It’s right, Bella. Let me just give you a little more, and you’ll see.”

This was suddenly too much. She tried to pull off. He wouldn’t let her.

“It hurts,” she moaned as the intimate ache spread.

He shuddered as his cock jerked, another warm bath. “Shh, just let it happen. Just rub your clit against me and let it happen.”

It was happening whether she wanted it to or not. His cock, greased with her cream, slick from his seed slowly won the battle over muscles uncertain whether to invite him in or push him out.

Sam brushed his lips over her ear. “It’s going to hurt for a minute. A virgin’s pain again as your body accepts mine this little bit. Just take it slow and breathe.”

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop, part of her welcoming this dark possession, part of her afraid of it. Panic started as the pressure built. “I can’t.”

“You already are.”

The burn intensified, stretching outward, finding her nipples, her clit, swelling them to hard eager points.

“See. Just a little more.”

They were almost at the point of no return.

“Sam?”

“What?”

“Kiss me. Hard and wild. As wild as you feel inside.”

He didn’t hesitate, mating his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply, thoroughly stealing her breath, her will, her fear, leaving her only with the anticipation of the pleasure he promised.

His lips parted from hers, just a hairsbreadth. “Give me your ass, Bella. Now.”

Holding her breath, she pushed down. His cock surged. There was a popping give and then an impossible fullness.

Her torso whiplashed into his. His hand left her hip, riding her spine pressing between her shoulder blades, bringing her against him.

“Shh, just relax.”

“It is too much.”

“No.” His expression was tight. “It’s just right.”

His other hand slid around until his thumb pressed on her clit. The feeling was incredible. Pleasure and pain spiraling outward in an indescribable joy.

“Rock on my cock now. Just a little.”

She did tentatively at first, experimenting until she found a rhythm she could handle. The spiral tightened. His cock swelled. She needed more. Her head fell back as she closed her eyes.

“That’s it. Go with it.”

She didn’t have a choice. This was wilder than anything she’d ever imagined. Decadent. But right. So right that she give herself to Sam this way. So right he know her like this.

The wildness in her rose, took over. She turned her face, inhaled his scent and bit his chest, bearing down harder as his hips jerked, taking more of his cock, gasping as it again became too much.

His fingers jerked on her clit, pinching sharply, sending another spike of pleasure pain through her. “Again,” she gasped, wiggling her hips in a vain attempt to work him deeper. She just needed him to do it again.

He pinched her clit, sending that shivery spike deep. It wasn’t enough. “Your cock,” she moaned. “I need your cock, too.”

“Jesus.”

“Please.”

Another pinch of her clit that wasn’t enough and then, “When I get you to a bed, I’ll fuck your ass raw, but you’re too dry now. You’ll tear.”

“I do not care.” She worked her hips again. “Please.”

“Are you almost there?”

“Yes.”

He massaged her clit in rough strokes, giving her what she needed there, what he denied her elsewhere. “Do you want to come now, Bella? Do you want to come like this with my cock tucked up this sweet ass?”

“Yes.
Por Dios,
yes.”

He clamped down hard, pulling her clit away from her pussy as he rocked his hips. “Then come.”

She did, shattering under the sharp spike, smothering her scream against his chest, her ass clamping down on the tip of his shaft, clenching in a hard milking that had him groaning and then his cock was jerking again, filling her with his rich seed, coating her sensitive flesh with thick warmth, easing the way for a deeper penetration.

Against her ear, he growled, “Mine.”

She didn’t argue with him, just collapsed against his chest as the burning ache of his complete possession rode the last shudder of her climax to sear its way to her soul.

“Always.”

I
sabella felt conspicuous the minute they entered the town limits. This wasn’t a town on the edge of nowhere, clinging to existence. This town had a livery, a boardinghouse and a saloon. This was a town with expectations of growing. This town had women—not all of whom worked at the saloon. And it was the way the good women were looking at her that made her acutely aware of Sam’s seed coating the still-sensitive flesh between her legs and tender tips of her breasts. Did the sin she’d committed with Sam brand her for all to see?

She lifted her chin and met the gaze of a very properly dressed blond woman leaving the mercantile. The woman looked away. For the first time since she met Sam, for the first time since she decided what was right, Isabella felt shame.

“You keep that head up, Bella. Speculation is normal when anybody new walks into town.”

She glanced over at Sam. He had that mean expression on his face. As if he was ready to go for the throat of anyone who looked at her wrong.

“I am not ashamed.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

“Because now I know what they speculate when they look at me!”

“And that bothers you?”

She shrugged. “I do not like the thought of others picturing me naked with you.”

The brim of his hat pulled down low hid his eyes, but his lips twitched. “You had to go put that thought in my head, didn’t you?”

He could not be serious. “You do not think women think this way?”

“Can’t say I ever did before this moment.”

She nodded toward the woman in the simple gray dress. “That one for sure wondered.”

“You think? She doesn’t look the type.”

“What is the type?”

Sam motioned toward the saloon where three women lounged against the building, enjoying the warm sun. They were dressed in bright dresses that barely covered their knees and exposed the tops of their breasts. Isabella blushed for a whole new reason. Even in her small town with Tejala’s influence everywhere, women did not display themselves so. It just was not done. Maybe this town was not as civilized as it would like.

“I think that one would be judging how much money you carry, rather than seeing your body with mine.”

He nodded. “You’re probably right. But that doesn’t make it any easier to imagine a proper woman speculating about me with someone.”

She rolled her eyes. “Women are no different than men. They wonder. They imagine.”

“Well, hell.” He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “I’m not going to be able to go to a social anymore without blushing.”

It was such an outrageous thing to say, and so impossible to believe, there could only be one reason he was saying it. He was distracting her. “I think that I would like to see that.”

“Me blushing?”

“No, you at a social. I think you would be interesting to see around others.”

“Decided you want to know all my secrets, eh?”

“Sí.”
She looked around. People were beginning to notice them, stopping on the street to stare. Curtains in windows fluttered. Anytime a stranger entered town, it tended to be time for gossip, but the fact they had a dog strapped to a travois behind them was bound to raise more talk than usual. That and the fact that she was
castellaña
and this town appeared to be mostly Tejanos. Memories of the war were still strong and tempers were still very high between the two races.

The two men talking to the saloon girl moved away from her and stepped into the street. She recognized them. They were close to Tejala.

“Put that hat on your head, Bella, and switch on over to my other side.”

She didn’t hesitate. She would feel much more comfortable with Sam between her and the men who watched her with such hunger. “This does not seem such a friendly town.”

The men did not move back into the overhang of the building. And with the heat the way it was, that alone was cause for suspicion. Sam held out the packhorse reins. “Mind taking over for a spell?”

“No.” The leather reins were warm and damp from his skin. She put her fingers in the indents left by his, wanting the connection. “Where do we go?”

“You are going to someplace safe, and then I’m going to look for Tucker.”

She didn’t know if there would be someplace safe in this town for someone like her. “Tucker is your friend?”

“Yes.”

Her mouth went dry. “You are close to him.”

He was still scanning the street. “Yup. He’s family. You’ll like him.”

Her liking him was not a question. Tucker liking her was a big question. Family could be very picky about the women their members associated with. “What is the name of this town?”

“Lindos.”

Her day was getting worse and worse. “We are not far from my home.”

“I figured that. Montoya is two towns over. You live there, right?”

“How did you know?”

The half smile that could seduce or annoy her played on his lips. “It wasn’t hard to put together, duchess. The way you put on airs, and that last name along with being in Tejala’s territory kind of did narrow down the field.”

She felt so foolish. She thought her secret was well hidden. “I have no wish to visit home.”

“We’ll talk about that later.”

The two men came into the street, not far enough to block them but enough to make her heart jump in her chest. “Sam?”

“I see them.” He flipped his cigarette into the dirt.

“What do you want me to do?”

His hand slid down to his revolver. “Stay where you are and think about what you’re going to say to your momma.”

The last time she’d seen her mother, they had fought. And if she saw her again they would probably fight again immediately, because her mother wanted the security an alliance with Tejala would bring her. And as much as Bella probably should do for her family, asking her to marry Tejala was too much. Tejala only wanted her to prove a point. When that point was made through her submission, he would kill her, then maybe her family too. He was that kind of man. She had to raise her voice for Sam to hear her. “I will not go.”

He raised his hand acknowledging he heard her, but she noticed he didn’t nod. He was going to be stubborn about this.

She stood in the stirrups, leaning forward, dread filling her as he kept going forward to those men so clearly ready to start trouble. She wanted to call him back. All that came out of her mouth was, “I can be stubborn, too.”

He still didn’t look back, but he saluted her with two fingers. “Never doubted that, duchess.”

He kept Breeze walking slowly and steadily toward the men. Why did he always have to look for the fight? The closer he got to the men the more nervous she became. Not only because there might be trouble but because there were things she had not told Sam. Things he might hold against her if he found out. She gripped the pommel in her hands. It was too late now. She just had to hope the men did not disclose everything.

Finally Sam pulled his horse up. He touched his finger to the brim of his hat. “Can I help you gentlemen?”

The one on the right with the meticulously groomed handlebar moustache stepped forward. She struggled to remember his name. He stroked his fingers over his moustache and she remembered. Manuelo. The clean-shaven man in the back positioned himself a little to the left and to the side. His name she could not remember. “The woman you are with. She looks familiar.”

She borrowed one of Sam’s favorite curses.
Shit.

“The woman is mine.”

Even hearing him say it with a threat in his voice gave her a thrill. The man widened his stance.

“I think you are wrong.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

It was nice to know she was not the only one with whom Sam could be perverse.

“The woman is Tejala’s.”

“By right or claim?”

“By contract. She is his intended.”

Hope died. Sam knew all now. She was engaged to another man and she’d slept with him. A betrothal contract was as good as marriage. He would hate her.

“You don’t say.” He shifted his weight in the saddle. It looked like a casual gesture but Breeze shifted, too, and when he settled Sam was at a better angle and she was no longer in the line of fire. Would this come to bullets?

“You mean paperwork was drawn up and everything?”

That didn’t sound like hate in his voice. It sounded like goading.

“By her father.”

Sam tipped back his hat. “I thought her father was dead.”

“He signed before he died.”

He had. Right before she blacked out from lack of air. She touched her throat, feeling again the agony of straining for breath that couldn’t come, hearing again her father’s pleas for her life. Hearing the gurgle as he choked on his own blood after he’d signed and Tejala had slit his throat.

“Well, where I come from we don’t sell women like we sell cattle, and since he’s not here to discuss it, I’d call that deal empty.”

“Tejala will not be happy.” Manuelo tipped his hat back. “You do not want to see Tejala unhappy.”

“He’s welcome to pull up a chair any time he gets a notion to discuss it.”

There was a tension developing between the men. Worse, more men, obviously friends of the first two, were wandering out of the saloon. She didn’t like it. Men, liquor and provocation were never a good combination. She liked even less that she did not have a weapon.

“You can have the discussion with us.”

“You don’t look the type capable of intelligent discourse.”

“¿Qué?”

“My point exactly. I’ll talk to Tejala if he ever gets his chicken ass out of hiding.”

Manuelo bristled. The crowd pressed in, scenting the spill of blood. “Tejala is not a coward.”

“Seeing as I’ve never seen him do anything but bully women and children, you’ll have to pardon me for holding my own opinion.”

Why was he goading them?

“You are a very foolish man,
señor.
”

Bella agreed and intended to lecture him about that as soon as she got him out of here.

“So I’ve been told, but I’ve got a message for you to take to Tejala.”

“And what would that be?”

“Bella is Hell’s Eight now.”

Manuelo’s beady eyes narrowed to slits. “Who are you, gringo?”

“The name would be Sam MacGregor.”

From the crowd came the whisper of “Wild Card.”

The clean-shaven man stepped back. Manuelo’s fingers twitched. “What do Texas Rangers do this far in Tejala’s territory?”

“Hunting.”

“For who?”

“I could say antelope, or mountain lion or—”

Manuelo pulled his revolver. Sam was faster. Two shots sounded in rapid succession. Manuelo fell to the ground, blood spreading in a bright red blossom over his chest. His accomplice stumbled back against the wall clutching his chest, eyes wide. His gun fell from his fingers to the ground. He followed it down in a slow slump.

Sam shook his head. “Looks like I’ll have to find me a new messenger.” He reached in his vest pocket and pulled out some coins and tossed them to the feet of one of the bystanders. “See that they don’t stink up the street.”

The man nodded, but he didn’t move. No one moved.

The gunplay had happened so fast, Isabella hadn’t had a chance to feel terror, but it was on her now, icy cold, leaving her light-headed. With relief or anger she couldn’t decide, but she was leaning toward the latter. Sam could have been killed, might still be killed, and all she could do was watch. She tugged the packhorse, who didn’t seem at all distressed by gunfire, forward.

The blond woman Isabella had noticed earlier came pushing through the crowd, ignoring the guns and the danger. She knelt beside the clean-shaven man. As if the moment could not explode into violence at any second, she opened the man’s shirt and checked his wound. Her mouth set in a straight line, she shook her head before looking up at Sam. “If thee paid for two burials, thee are owed money back.”

“I can remedy that.”

She shook her head. “Not today thee won’t.”

Sam’s head came up. “I beg your pardon.”

“It’s not my pardon you should be begging but God’s.”

“God and I aren’t on speaking terms.”

“God talks to everyone. Even fools.” She snapped her fingers at two men inside the saloon. “Enrique, Paolo, bring this man to my house.”

“That’s not necessary, ma’am.”

The woman stood, brushing the dust off her skirts. Her white lace cap ruffled in the breeze. She was tall, with a pretty square face, pale blond hair and a very competent manner. “It wouldn’t have been if thee had tried talking instead of shooting.”

“He’s an outlaw.”

“He’s an injured man and in need of care.”

“He’s just as likely to stab you in your sleep.”

“Dying isn’t to be feared, Sam.”

Sam opened his mouth and then closed it. Isabella knew exactly how he felt. Never had she seen a woman handle men so.

“Might as well give it up, Sam. There’s no getting a word in edgewise when Sally Mae gets her dander up.”

“I’m getting that impression.”

Isabelle blinked at the man who stepped out of the saloon. She’d thought Sam was big but this man was a giant. As he came up beside Sally Mae it was a study of opposites. While Sally Mae was fair and willowy, the man was dark, with big bones and layers of muscles piled on top. He wore a leather vest over a blue shirt with the sleeves ripped off. His muscled arms were as massive as the rest of him. The darkness of his skin merely emphasized the deep cuts of his biceps. The only similarity was their eyes. They both had gray eyes. Hers were dark calming gray while his were so pale beneath the brim of his hat, they seemed to almost glow.

Sally Mae did not look pleased to see him. Her eyes narrowed. “I have not given thee permission to use my given name, Mr. McCade. You will kindly refrain from such an overly familiar manner.”

There was another similarity. Both were very confident.

Tucker didn’t look any worse for the reprimand. If anything, he looked amused. “That last name of yours is a mouthful.”

Her chin came up. “Thee are not an ignorant man. Endeavor to learn it before we meet again.” She turned on her heel and marched away, skirts swaying at her brisk pace.